Don't do this to me
by Ignite The Spark
Summary: Natasha and Clint end up in a bad situation... And things only get worse. Inspired by an amazing drawing that can be found on dA under the title Bagota by Sairobi. Natasha x Clint


"I'm sorry… It wasn't supposed to… be like this."

His voice was fading… getting slowly lost in the roar of the flames that were licking up around them. Nearly every inch of the building was covered, glowing yellow, orange, and gold as the fire consumed whatever was left in its path. A rough thump echoed out as Natasha tried once more to free herself, her back pressing hard against the pillar that they'd been tied to and her hands pushing roughly away in an attempt to break their bonds, but when she heard a quiet whimper coming from the other side she stopped, her hands falling limply to her sides.

Their hands had been tied together, Natasha's left wrist to Clint's right, and Clint's right to Natasha's left, completing a circle that pinned them each to a respective side of the pillar, allowing neither to move.

"Stop it, Barton. We're going to get out; we'll be fine." Natasha retorted, her head falling back against the pillar which caused her red hair to be pushed up as she looked to the ceiling. If they could just break the ties and get to the roof… They'd be fine. But all of their weapons had been taken, all the way down to her Widow's Bite. She had nothing to cut the thick nylon with… Nothing.

"Natasha… I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention… I should've-"

"You shouldn't have taken that bullet, damn it." Natasha growled, her struggle renewed as she tried desperately to pull at the bonds, to break them… But she stopped when she heart Clinton whimper once more from the pain that the excessive force was causing. "I would have been fine. I could have dodged it."

"I didn't want you to get hurt…" Clinton replied quietly, his voice dropping further in volume, the roar of the flame engulfing the words even more so than it had before.

"Barton, I would have been fine. I'm a big girl. Really, I could have handled myself." Frantic green eyes were now scanning the area of the floor around them, looking for something to cut the nylon with… There had to be something… A broken shard of glass, a knife dropped from one of the targets during the fight, hell… even a nail. There had to be something.

"I always told you I'd take a bullet for you. I always said that-" His words were cut off by a sudden, rough cough that came from his direction… A sound that was hoarse and wet and all together unpleasant. Even though she couldn't see him, she knew what was happening. He was coughing up blood…

"Just stop talking, Barton. Save your strength. You'll need it for when we get out of here… We're going to have to scale the walls and-" It was Natasha's turn to cut off, her words falling into silence at the feel of something on her hand. Something warm and not all together unfamiliar… Barton was clasping it now, his fingers intertwined between hers as he gave it a gentle squeeze, the feel of warm blood seeping into Natasha's skin from his. His grip was weak, not at all like the strength she was used to… and that alarmed her. Greatly. "Barton… Barton. Everything's going to be fine. I promise you that… on my own life and my Russian name. We'll get out of here."

From the other side of the pillar she could hear a weak, pathetic laugh coming from him, one that was entirely unnatural. Usually his laugh was boisterous, filling an entire room as a wide smile lit up his face… A smile she could see now clearly in her head. This laugh… it wasn't right. At all.

"Clint…" It was the first time she'd used his first name in forever… "I mean it. Alright? I'm going to get us out of here." It was then that she squeezed his hand back, forcing away the lump that was in her throat and growing. "Just hold on. Okay? Just…" Once more she tried at the bonds, releasing her grip on his hands to pull at them… and once more she found the effort futile because she was stopping as Clint let out a grunt this time, his body suddenly rattling with the sound… She could feel the tremor through the nylon.

"Natasha."

Her green eyes slid to the side then, looking down at where their hands brushed, the contact lingering before he once more took his hand in hers… That was all she could see of him. His hand… just a hand. She couldn't see his face, the way it was pained, the blood coming from the corner of his mouth, his midsection which was stained red and wet, blood pouring from an open wound in his abdomen. Nothing of that.

"There's something I need to tell you."

"No." The word slid from her mouth in a quick, harsh manner, cutting him off. Her entire body had gone rigid then, her grip on his hand tightening so much so to the point that Clint grit his teeth, his eyes slamming shut as his head fell back against the pillar, letting out an audible thud. "Don't. Just don't. We're getting out of here, damn it."

"Just listen to me for once, will you?" Clint growled, his voice coming out more firm than it had before, his grip on her hand tightening momentarily before he relaxed it.

"No. I don't want to hear it. Okay? Just… save it. We'll be out of here in no time. All I have to find is-"

"I love you, Natasha."

The words seemed to shut the female assassin up, her entire frame freezing as she sat there. Dark green eyes widened as she let out a shaky breath, staring ahead for a moment before slamming them shut and shaking her head.

"You stupid fool…" She groaned, the sound coming out choked as she bit her lip. It was then that she noticed it, the feel of something wet and warm sliding down her cheek. Was she… was she crying? "Love is for children."

There was no response though… none. Natasha let out a groan and pulled her hand from his, once more searching the floor in front of her… and suddenly she took in an audible gasp. There! Probably just a foot of reach was shard of glass… Probably from a window that had blown due to the heat of the flames around them.

"I'm getting us out of here. Just… just hang on." With that she slid forward, contorting her body until she was lying out on the floor, her arms straight above her head and still attached to Clint's wrists, her legs kicking out as one heeled boot caught the edge of the glass. With a groan and every ounce of strength left in her beaten body, she slid back, dragging the glass towards herself and moving so that she could grab it. Finally… Finally they'd be getting out of here. "Just hang on." She whispered again.

With the glass in one hand she began to saw at the nylon, the process taking far longer than she would have cared for… But eventually it snapped, freeing up that hand so that she could make quick work of the other.

"Alright… Barton. Let's go. We've-" Her voice trailed off as she shift, moving so that she had rounded the pillar and was facing him. Clint's eyes had fallen shut and his head had lolled forward, causing his chin to meet his chest. A trickle of blood stretched from the corner of his mouth down to his chin, bruises and cuts littered his face… and his torso… it was completely red. His typical black and purple clothing was irrevocably stained, and the hole at the center showed exactly where the bullet had gotten him.

"Barton, come on…" Natasha murmured, her voice shaking as she reached out, tapping her hand lightly to the side of his face. "Come on, we have to go. We have to climb to the roof and…" She trailed off as she watched his head loll, his entire body beginning to shift before it was suddenly falling to the floor. A surprised gasp escaped the petite Russian as she rushed forward, barely catching his frame in her lap before he would have hit the concrete floor.

"No… no no… no no no." Natasha whimpered, shaking her head vehemently as she tapped lightly at the side of his face. "Come on, wake up. Damn it, Clint. This isn't time for your stupid, silly games. Wake up…" The words were coming out angry now as she progressively began to hit his face harder, stopping only when she realized she was leaving a red mark on his paling skin. After a long, quiet moment, she extended two shaky fingers and placed them to the base of his throat, holding it there to see if a pulse greeted her… When she found none, she let out a choked sob.

"No. You can't do this to me, Barton. You can't." She cried, shifting her body. Delicately she laid him out on the floor and shift to his side, her hands finding a home on the center of his chest before she began to push harshly, repeating the movement ten times before she bent down and placed her mouth to his, attempting to breathe air into his lungs. Once she'd transferred all of her own oxygen from her lungs, she moved back and began to press at his chest again. The process repeated itself at least three more times, yielding no results.

"Clint… Damn it." Her voice was whisper thin as she fell forward, her arms resting on his chest and her face burying itself in her arms. The flames that roared around her, inching ever closer, seemed momentarily forgotten. "No… don't do this to me. Please… don't do this to me." Each word shook as it slid from her, coming out as a sob. Through the fabric of her torn sleeves she could feel the tears as they leaked from her eyes.

"You stupid… stupid fool." A rattling breath forced its way from her lungs, turning into a quiet gasp as she heard a voice coming from somewhere in the distance. The words were terse and spoken in a language she didn't understand… Which was more than enough to send her body on alert. With one last sob she sat up, swiping at her eyes as she looked down to Clinton's body. After a long moment she bent in, placing her lips lightly to his cheek before she moved to his ear, her eyes falling shut as she brought a hand up and rest it against the side of his face.

"I love you too…"

The words were whisper soft, meant for only him to hear… even if he couldn't. With that she pulled herself away, pausing only a moment more to look down at his broken, bruised, and bloody body before she turned and took off, hardly able to see two feet in front of her because of the tears in her eyes.


End file.
